Ripples

Toss a stone, there...into yonder pond, then watch the ripples circle out and cease. Cast a hope into, they yonder dreams...and it will come to be. Twas a vision mankind had, that ye have killed...but we have come to bring it back to life.

With necromantic skull, you culled, the good at heart in every human child. At night you came to steal the dreams they had; to leave a little coal...of darkness in their head. When they were your's you'd give them toys, to chat and text...to sin, and suck away their souls.

Yet, that was not enough for you. You had to take the best of them and leave an empty hole...bereft of anything...at all. But time has come, and time has opened up a yaw...to undo every single deed you've done, evil obvious or subtle.

Then, after time has brought all this to pass...so,time itself, doth end. You know...children, endings are not all that's left. Beginning's too...no dreaming, but the ones that died...returned to life. There...every tear will dry, nor sadness seem...you will remember nothing of the harm,understanding all.


Written by Bruce James Clyde 2016, at Deming, New Mexico

Art: By Russian artist, Andrei Shiskin